Breaking
by RaeC
Summary: SLASH.  Breaking happens slowly sometimes and then sometimes you break all at once.


Title: Breaking  
>Author: RaeC.<br>Fandom: H50  
>Pairing: Steve McGarrettDanny Williams  
>Rating: Mature<br>Word Count: 4473  
>Classification: AngstDrama/First Time

Warnings: Not really. If you squint really hard, there might, just might be an _over-abundanceof angst._

Synopsis: Breaking happens slowly sometimes and then sometimes you break all at once.

Authors Notes: Well, this story was written based on **bananafive0** 's screen cap of Steve standing at ease in the Governor's Office. The muses, however, went somewhere very strange with that prompt. **cedara** challenged me to write this. Went a little over the 1000 word minimum. So, yeah, maybe again not quite the story that we first envisioned. Honestly, this started out as crack. I don't know what happened.

Edited by the lovely Ari, but all other errors are mine. I am in a love/hate relationship with my muses. *veg* Because of them this story kicked my ass. Please don't hesitate point out errors. I'll fix em as you come across them.

Not mine. Belongs to CBS, et al. I make no money from this story and nor do I expect to. Handled with as much care as I possibly could.

**Breaking**

Danny was screwed. Seriously. Beyond a shadow of doubt, fucked up beyond all repair. And it was all Lt. Commander Steven McGarrett's fault. Because the man could not keep his shirt on. Not in the hurry up or I'll kill you, kind of way. Although that was true on some days. But in the literal sense of not being able to be near a body of water and keep his shirt on. And it was driving Danny insane.

And they were near a body of water. Complete with Steve shirtless. Danny was sure, well almost positive, that Steve did it on purpose. Danny was still trying to decide _why_. And if it was worth the risk to look for longer than, say a second. Because, yeah, looking at Steve was one of those guilty pleasures that Danny did not want to give up. Getting caught looking would seriously hamper that pleasure. Guys don't look at other guys unless they are gay, not in the way that Danny looks at Steve. He could have sworn he's was straight, say a year ago.

Now, after spending a year around Rambo, yeah, not so much.

Maybe he just likes winding Danny up. It might not be in the way that Steve intended, but it did wind Danny up. With the craving to touch and taste and feel. And Danny was not going there. Not today. He was sitting on Steve's lanai, enjoying a rare quiet afternoon, with no explosions or explosions. No one that he had to share Steve with. Danny time.

"I'm going for a swim." Steve gets out of his sprawl on the deck chair that Danny was enjoying so much.

"Hey! We just finished eating. Isn't that against some Navy regulation? Some SEAL preprogrammed gene against stupidity?" Danny was praying with every fiber of his being that Steve would not strip in front of him.

"Funny, Danno.

"Would you quit calling me Danno? Grace calls me Danno. You, you don't get to call me Danno. You don't mean it like she does. It's special. Call me Daniel, Danny, or Dan if you have to be special. I thought we went over this the last time you thought it would be good idea in that primordial brain of yours. Didn't the sarcasm give it away?" Danny couldn't stand to hear Steve say his name that way. It did things to him that made him shift in his chair, squirm uncomfortably every time Steve uttered the 'o'. It rolled off Steve's tongue like it was meant to be there.

Danny was already sweltering with the temperature above eighty degrees, Steve in nothing but his cargos, feet bare. Humidity at ninety percent and no breeze coming off the bay. He didn't need Steve calling him Danno on top of it. He'd break. As it was, it wouldn't take much more for Danny to lose his carefully controlled resistance to all things Steven that this entire evening was putting on him. For fucks sake, Steve's bare feet made his mouth water. Who in their right mind gets turned on by feet? Feet?

Steve snorted. "Who says I don't think it's special? You are more crazy than usual tonight. I thought you came over to relax, so relax. I'm hot. I need to cool off. I'm going for a swim. Send the Coast Guard if I'm not back in an hour."

"Steven! Are you…what are you doing? You can't just," Danny waved his hand at Steve's half dressed state. "Strip off in front of your partner. Are you insane? Do you even have trunks on? I can't believe you. It's bad enough that you routinely lose your shirt, now it's the pants. What am I saying? Of course you don't go commando. "Danny peaked between his fingers. "Do you?"

"Cover your eyes if my nakedness so offends your Jersey sensibilities. What do you take me for, Danny?" Steve was laughing at him now, but he just didn't understand. Danny couldn't take it anymore.

And fucking hell, he wasn't going to? Was he? Going to lose the cargo pants! Please, if there is a God, Steve will be wearing something under those pants, because Danny would not survive the spontaneous combustion of seeing Super SEAL in all his glory. He was praying to every saint in the history of saints to not be confronted with naked Steve at this moment.

Because shirtless Steve was bad enough when Danny is faced with a raging libido, but to have him without the ever present cargos which were part Danny-repellent armor, part temptation? Danny would jump him. In heartbeat. No mercy. No quarter. With extreme prejudice. Fucking jump the man and let loose with all the pent up force that has been building since Danny came to this pineapple-infested hell hole.

And then Steve would kill him. It was just that simple. Because Mr. I Know Twenty Ways To Kill You When You Are Looking is straight. As straight as Danny used to think he was before coming to Hawaii and finding out he was rather bendy. Flexible. In a ready to bend over and reach for his ankles sexually adaptable kind of way. And that was yesterday. Before Steve decided that loosing the cargos was a fucking spectacular idea. Danny is dead. It was the sunshine. It had to be the sunshine. There was not this much fucking sunshine in Jersey. It's an infection.

Jersey didn't have Steven McGarrett either. Danny peaked through his fingers, and really, just when did he cover his face, and what greeted him was somehow worse than Steve without his standard issue US government approved, white cotton skivvies or daily uniform of t-shirt and tan cargos. Worse than nude. Or naked. Or in his birthday suit, in which Danny was strangely disappointed to have missed. Yes, it would have been fucking awesome and fed his fantasies for months. No, this was worse and terrifying and invigorating because there was no amount of praying that was going to save Danny now.

The bastard was standing at attention on all accounts, head tilted back, eyes closed, under the outdoor shower spray, in his swim trunks. Super Spidey sense offline and not paying a bit of fucking attention to Danny who was stalking closer and closer. Tossing his own t-shirt along the way. Toeing off his shoes. Shorts barely clinging to his hips because Danny had gone beyond temptation. The need for personal safety and boundaries falling away with each step closer to Steve. Danny was beyond human endurance.

And it was all Steven's fault. The fucker was hard. He got off on turning Danny on. Knew exactly what he'd been doing the entire time.

Danny was tired, done with this bullshit. The insane adrenaline junkie just upped the ante by letting Danny know he'd been doing this on purpose. Losing his shirt. His pants. Bending down earlier to take off his boots in that Danny-wanted-to-fuck-him-so-hard pose that Danny thought he was imagining. He got off on watching Danny writhe in lust at the sight of his chest and had the nerve to back down. Turn away. After letting Danny see. Want. He wasn't thinking straight. Okay, not straight at all, he knew that, but couldn't stop himself now if the world came to an end. And Danny strangely enough for him accepted it.

Grabbing his handcuffs from his pants pocket, Danny took those last few steps to his doom and snapped them into place.

"Danny, what the hell!" Steve jumped, nearly knocking Danny off his feet as he turned around.

"Shut up. This is all your fault."

"My fault? You just cuffed me!" Why wasn't Steve fighting him? Danny expected Steve to put up more resistance than this. He just leaned against the wall, watching Danny's every move. Isn't that what you did with wild animals? Danny remembered reading that once. Relax, think your way out. Why was he even thinking about this right now?

"What part of shut up did you not understand?" Danny seized Steve by his neck to pull his head within reach. "God, I've been dreaming about this all day." And proceeded to prove it to the asshole by mapping the contours of that amazing mouth with his tongue. Steven, not a passive participant in any way, attacked back, searing an image of hard demanding lips onto his own. Forever leaving an imprint that Danny wouldn't easily forget.

So, maybe Steve wasn't so pissed at him. Or he could just be biding his time. Whichever, Danny could work with it for the moment. Enjoy the softness of Steve's lips. Drown in Steve.

There was air required here somewhere, breathing, but Danny only wanted to get closer, press himself tighter. Against Steve, his hard body, his hard prick. Rub himself all over him and never stop, mark Steve with his scent. Primal urge of Mine.

This first kiss, where he hadn't even starting exploring Steve's mouth yet, hadn't gone past the heat of his lips, the touch of Steve's tongue trying to get inside his, was the single hottest moment of life.

Danny's only saving grace was that Steve couldn't touch him. Because right now, he had to breathe, really had to get air in his lungs before he passed out. And if Steve had free hands, Danny would be a dead man. In more ways than one. Pulling back, Danny waited for the explosion to begin, not Steve's voice barely above a whisper and whiskey harsh, "Do you even know what you are doing?"

"No, and right now, I don't care. I want to touch you. I'm winging it."

"Danny, there's a bit more here than maybe you're aware of."

"I'm not a complete idiot. I'm sure for what I have planned in my limited working knowledge, that one, you'll approve of whole-heartedly, and two, I won't screw it up. Now back to the shutting up. Grunt if you need to communicate. Because you" Kiss. "Have been displaying yourself," kiss, "for months now." Kiss. "Now, I'm taking you up on your offer."

Steve sagged against the shower stall, bracing himself with his hands and shoulders. "Neighbors."

"Trees. Lots and lots of trees. Natural fencing."

"Windows, upstairs."

"I must be doing this wrong. You are _still_ talking." Danny wanted to touch Steven so badly. So he did. Pulled the string on Steve's trunks and reached inside.

"Nnnnh…" Steve arched into Danny's hand. leaned back against the wall, his dark head thunking against the wood, neck arched, hips thrusting into Danny's grip.

"That's more like it." And Danny just can't stop talking. "Do you know how hot you look right now? Fuck, Steven. You're a Greek god. I've thought about this for months and months. All these muscles." Danny ran his free hand over Steve's chest, down his stomach and back up again. "You've been in every fantasy I've had since the day I met you. I don't understand it. I don't like guys. Didn't like guys. But you, you turn me on." Danny was babbling. "I wanted you in my bed, that stupid fold-out sofa, like somehow having you there would make it better. All hard and breathless. What the hell have you done to me?"

Steve grunted and looked down, his eyes shadowed, forced open with desire. "Danno…"

"Again with the Danno. Jesus, don't talk. Cause your voice makes me want to come. Right now. Please don't talk unless it's to tell me to stop." Danny's stroking Steve, exploring him in a way he'd never explored himself. Cause, yeah, you know what feels good, but it's all about getting off.

"Not. Going. To. Happen."

"I can't concentrate when you talk." Danny shuddered at the sound of Steve's voice. It's worse than when Steve loses his shirt. And he wants to make this good. It's as if he is sixteen, losing his virginity and not wanting the girl he was with to laugh. But fuck, Steve, "Steven", he breathed, how Steve makes him feel. A stroke down with just the right twist.

"This look but don't touch thing you've had going. It wasn't working for me." The way Steve' dick just jumps in his hand when he presses along the underside on his way back up. The heat that's almost a burn that Danny can feel in his palm that travels up his arm to his shoulder, to his heart and back again.

"Wanted you to touch." And Steve, Danny notices, can't stop squirming like he's trying to crawl out of his skin, get closer, push harder for more. The shuddering, stuttering breaths as if Steve can't get enough air. Danny memorized it all. Even the slow slide of Steve's trunks as they slip down his legs with every contraction of his powerful thighs. The thrusts, and barely heard curses, as Steve worked for it, works to come. And Danny draws it out as much as he can. He doesn't want Steve to come yet. Not yet.

He rubbed his thumb over the top of Steve's prick. It's more like a hint than a caress. He pressed his face into the crook of Steve's neck, because he's going to come himself if he watches any longer. Steve's leaking badly at this point. His pre-cum doing more to add lubricant to every stroke than the water they were both standing under. But Danny wanted to touch, wanted to do this, feel every glorious inch of Steve as long as he could and knew that once he put pressure on the tip, it was going to be all over for Steve. He was just that close.

"Can you hold on?" Danny whispered, because saying it any louder would break this moment. It's so important and should be valued as such.

"Fuck, Danno. Please." Steve just sounds so broken. "Please, please, please."

"I've got you. I've got you." Danny grips a bit harder, calloused hands sliding over polished, fire-hardened steel. "Let me take care of you. Please, Steven. Jesus, I need to do this, so, so much."

And he shudders against Danny. Harsh, wet breath tattered and torn against his ear. Every stroke of Danny's hand up and down ripping a new sound, a new whine, a new moan from Steve's lips. Danny can't let go now, can't stop, doesn't want to stop. He wants to make this moment last. He's breaking inside. Reforming himself. Allowing himself to want, to touch, be someone else. Someone maybe not so straight, not so blind. He's got another guy's dick in his hand.

He's not pressed against soft womanly curves or smelling sweet, delicate perfume. He's got one of the Navy's most powerful weapons, trained and honed by years of service, hard-edged, built to withstand just about any situation trembling against him. Captain America, himself, plastered as close as he can get to every surface of Danny's body, thrusting into Danny's hand. Steve, as male as a man can get, wants a man from Jersey. All rough around the edges.

And that's all it took. Danny rubbed his thumb over the head of Steve's prick, used his fingers to stroke along the length of Steve, slight twist as he reached the top, wrenching the orgasm from his body, mouth firmly planted over Steve's to drown out his snarl of satisfaction. Yeah, okay, not straight. Not by a long shot.

Danny was afraid to look at Steve now. He couldn't believe he crossed that line. Just fucking took without asking. Steve was going to deck him. Any minute now. After he released Steve from the cuffs.

"You done freaking out yet, Danno?"

"Uh, No."

"Too bad." The snarl hadn't left Steve's voice. He was so screwed.

Danny brought his head up from Steve's shoulder where he was probably, not so quietly, having a life changing moment. Complete with mental break down. "Steve, I jumped you. Locked you up in cuffs and that's not me. I don't restrain my bed partners, my co-workers or my boss for that matter. I'm so…"

"Don't say another fucking word." Steve was cold, glacial, his expressions hid behind a mask of solid ice. Danny let him go and backed away. "Not another word."

Danny nodded.

"You remember how I told you once I could take you with both hands tied behind my back?" Steve was still hidden behind his wall, nothing given away.

Danny nodded again.

One shrug of Steve's shoulders, eyes tight against a bit of pain and the next Danny knows, he's on his back, flattened against the hard unforgiving surface of the lanai. His breath knocked out of him by the weight of two hundred pounds of solid muscle and tough Hawaiian wood. Steve's got his hands free and snapped one of the cuffs around his wrist.

"I wasn't kidding." Steve's got his hand wrapped tightly up in Danny's, palm to palm, fingers blending, meshing like they aren't ever going to let go. "I like you. No, it's my turn to talk. You don't get to talk."

Danny shut up. Not about to speak in the face of Steve's cold eyes. Molten silver. Angry. He couldn't look away now, not with that laser focus pinning him in Steve's grip.

"I have been after you for months. For six solid hellish months where you wouldn't give me an inch. You'd look, but you wouldn't touch. When you denied what was right in your freaking face. Pushed me away when it got too much for you to handle. I respected that. Respected that you weren't ready, that you'd never be ready. I gave you space. You touched _me_ first. You don't get to freak out now. You don't get to apologize."

Danny finally took a breath. "Alright."

Steve wasn't veiled anymore. It was all out there in the open and Danny relaxed. He could deal with a Steve he could read. Anger, he knew he deserved and would have accepted the consequences. This he didn't expect. The desire, the need, the want burning in his face like he was denied his favorite toy. So alright, okay, on board. Not dead or suffering from mass bruising, broken bones. Face smashed in. That was the best part.

"That's it? Done hiding from yourself?"

"Yes." Definitely done hiding. Just please, and sure, maybe there was one small whimper when Steve shifted above him, his thigh pressed against his cock which was taking a renewed interest in the man above, now that the danger was gone. Now that Steve had his full attention, Danny couldn't look away.

Steve lifted off a bit and pushed his trunks the rest of the off, tossing them to the side. Then, with almost what Danny would call reverence, he lifted the elastic of Danny's over his rapidly hardening cock. "I wondered what you'd look like spread out like this. What your prick would look like hard and leaking. What your mouth would taste like. Your neck."

Steve leaned down, licking his neck right at the hollow of his throat. His other hand burning a path along his ribs. "Are you ticklish?"

Danny really wanted to be able to answer, but honestly, his mouth was not connected to his brain right now and all that came out was a 'nuhhh…'. Steve's laughter washed over him and just like his moans, it went straight into his core to be saved for examining later.

"I want to see you naked." Steve whispers right into his ear. Danny just nods. That's all he can do right now with the man's hand burning a path lower and lower along his stomach. Skin just catching on fire, needing Steve to touch his cock right this fucking minute.

"Not yet, Danno. Lift up for me."

Danny follows Steve's instructions blindly, because one, his hands are trapped, and two, fair is fair. He lifts his hips, letting Steve skim his shorts off, pulling his knees up to make it easier. Not sure how he was functioning with his nerves lit up from inside out. Steve pushed against one of his knees, and Danny squirmed, uncomfortable with where things might be going.

"Open your legs." Steve wrapped his hand around Danny's cock. "Just this, Danno. This far and no further, I promise." Steve was stretched out all along his side, but it wouldn't take much for him to be between both of his legs. Danny wasn't completely clueless as to what might happen in a homosexual relationship. He'd answered enough calls to the clubs or between walking in on his fellow cadets who couldn't keep it in their pants long enough to get home. A man would have to blind in his profession. Danny wasn't blind, but he wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready for that.

Somehow Steve could read his unease. "No further than your dick, Danno. I just want to look. Nothing more."

"Have you ever…?"

"Yes." Danny could see that want in Steve's eyes, carefully banked. As if he didn't want to scare Danny off. Danny took a shuddering breath, and placed his trust in Steve.

"You are going to kill me. Maybe not quite in the way I imagined at first, but yeah, definitely going to kill me."

Steve laughed again, and leaned back in to capture Danny's mouth again, his hand moving up and down with such infinite care. Danny forgot all about Steve's hand, about anything else once Steve started kissing him. Although he felt the pleasure of being stroked off, of Steve occasionally brushing his fingers over Danny's balls, which sent fucking hand grenade explosions off behind his eyes, every other brain cell was focused on his mouth. There really wasn't much Danny could do because that's where Steve wanted it.

Danny had long thought that having Steve McGarrett as a partner should come with a warning label. A big, freaking huge yellow warning label. With large black print. In all capital letters. **WARNING: APPROACH WITH EXTREME CAUTION. CONTENTS UNSTABLE. **Having him as a partner in the biblical sense? That required warning labels, plural, FEMA training manuals on what to do in the event said event happens, and survival instructions for the aftermath, because Steven McGarrett kissing you as if you were his world? That's cataclysmic. Devastating.

Before he knew it, Danny was coming apart in Steve's hands. Shuddering, gasping, ripped apart. He'd never even noticed he was so close. One moment, he's kissing Steve like his life depends on it and the next shouting as his orgasm takes him by surprise. Steve is holding him, gentle and fragile with one hand, the other still tightly wrapped in Danny's hands above his head. Brushing his hair out of his eyes, caressing along Danny's jaw. Coaxing him through the aftermath.

This was worse than Danny's changing world view. Or an identity crisis. Following Steven into burning buildings or chasing after criminals who had Uzis. He'd fucking fallen in love. He'd jumped off a cliff and never noticed.

"You love it and you know it."

"Huh?" Danny's brain still wasn't firing on all cylinders yet.

"Come on, Danno. You can bitch at me later about guns and burning buildings. Right now, let's go for a swim."

"Why?" Danny let Steve pull him to his feet, unlock the cuffs around their wrists, and pull him back in for another quick kiss.

"Because we're all dirty," Steve gets that smirk that Danny has come to love so, so much. "And sweaty and I want to cool off. Then," Steve said as he advanced into Danny's personal space once more, "I want to do it all over again."

Having control of Steve like that had been an incredible turn on, but having Steve touch him like this? It was ten times better. Hotter. Fucking fantastic. Danny was very onboard with that. "Gimme a minute. I'm not like you, Merman. I need recovery time. I'll watch. Go have fun. I'll be here when you get back."

Steve grabbed his swim suit with what looked like regret and put it on. Danny could understand that feeling. But in a totally different way. He was already sprawled out on a deck chair with a towel covering his waist.

"You should be naked when I get back." Steve nodded at the towel.

"I am naked. So, so naked right now, it's not even funny."

"More naked, less towel." Steve grinned. "I like looking at you. Just like you like looking at me."

"I hate you so much right now."

Steve leaned down and gave him a kiss that was just as powerful as the first time. One that knocked his socks off, wrung him out to dry, left Danny wanting more and more and more. Forever. Fuck, he was so screwed.

"No you don't." Steve was all seriousness, and light, naked control in every line of his body. One quick tweak of the towel and Danny was laid bare again. "You look good like that Danny. And if it takes me forever, I'll prove it to you. Don't hide. I'll be back. "

And maybe Steve did like to show off around Danny. Was comfortable with saying 'Look at Me'. But that wasn't Danny. He wasn't secure in himself like that. Didn't like putting it all there. Didn't like to remove his armor that was his tie, dress shirt, and slacks. It made him feel naked in a way that's not comfortable, like he's still that scrawny little high school teenager who couldn't pull the girls. Too much chest hair, too short, not good enough, with his shoulders hunched in. Danny doesn't like feeling that way. He's a guy. He's wired that way.

Steve though, Danny notices, doesn't feel that way. When he's wearing his clothes, it's like he's not armoring himself, he's hiding. He doesn't just put on a t-shirt and cargos; no he has to add another layer. It's as if he can't stand to be separated from the water or sun and he has to put as much between him as he can so he won't miss it as much. And the moment it becomes 'acceptable', he loses everything in the quickest way possible. Can't stand to have those layers between him and the island he loves so much.

That's Steve. He's never more powerful than the moment he loses his shirt and just, jumps. His entire body sings, 'This is me'. And isn't that just a fucking turn on.

Yeah, Danny was so, so screwed. He grabbed his trunks, slipped them on and joined Steve down at the beach. Yeah, he could share this part of himself, be this naked to someone, open, but only with Steve. Because that's what you do when you love someone. You let them set you free.


End file.
